When Unprecedented is Precedented

This new normal and the confusion over what is true all amidst an unfolding perma-crisis is driving church attendance (The Hartford Institute for Religion Research, 2025), emergency meal kit stockpiles (Reuter, 2025), and verification literacy (Franklin, 2026). Living through such rapid, on-going change seems to naturally go hand-in-hand with dilated pupils and ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ t-shirts.

But “the truth is”, these times aren’t unprecedented. There have been prior occasions when the global sands shifted simultaneously to knowledge and truth entering a period of reckoning. The parallels not only highlight that periods of intellectual and socio-political transition generate similar psychological and cultural responses, but also that we must decide what kind of role we will play in it. Hence, the three archetypes of 555. Choose your character.

Why 555 CE Matters

I came upon this parallel by accident while doing research for articles on prior Ages of Air, Pluto in Aquarius (within Ages of Air), and Saturn-Neptune conjunctions in Aries—-simultaneous historical cycles we are living in right now. The further I zoomed into these concurrent epochs of time, the more acutely the era and events of 553-555 CE converged at the core like Russian nesting dolls (with the Nodes thrown in to boot).

This period of time demonstrates multiple themes that I have previously identified in articles on these transits, including:

• The push-pull dynamic between decentralized and centralized models of intellectual governance (Theme One: Zealots and Princes)

• Innovative ways to safeguard knowledge (Theme Two: Innovation Begets Rebuilding)

• Pooling and cross-polinizing intellectual capital across cultural and theological lines serving as a lifeline for the spirit of inquiry (Theme Three: Knowledge is Power)

• Institutional gate-keeping of knowledge and silencing outliers as a form of control (The Age of AI(R), Part Two)

• The power of parallel (knowledge) economies (The Age of AI(R), Part Three)

• Major identity shifts and new “inner truths” in conjunction with how we relate to each other, the Divine, and ourselves. (Editing Humanity, Part Four)

The following three archetypes demonstrate a type of protasis-apodosis (an if-then statement) between an individual’s relationship to truth and its correlational effects within a “post-truth era”. In essence, when identities are changing and truth and knowledge become endangered, the demonstrated reflex is to control it, expand it, or preserve it. We’ll consider where this is being demonstrated today and what you can do about it.

First, we must set the scene for how identities were shifting during this period, followed by further commentary within Archetype #1 on the socio-political shifts that were happening.

Setting the Scene: A Post-Truth Era, Round 1

“The Dark Ages” was a term used to describe the period of time after the fall of the Western Roman Empire up through about 1000 CE. This bleak term had been coined by the Romans precisely because they weren’t in power at that time. (Dark ages, 2026) It was linked to the decline of literacy, the abandonment of cities, and the invasions of “barbarians” like the Almanni, Franks, Goths, and Huns in the Western half of the Empire. (Wells, p. 3) In reality, while formal education was in decline in Italy, it was thriving elsewhere such as Persia within The Academy of Gondishapur and Baghdad within the House of Wisdom, kicking off The Islamic Golden Age.

The last Roman emperor was deposed in 476 in a bloodless coup and he was pensioned off and permitted to live in retirement in a comfortable country estate. In short, Rome didn’t “fall” as much as it was declared redundant. (Kelly, p. 275) Political power in the West then shifted from one centralized location to multiple decentralized locations which clustered wherever the Roman military had outposts. (Wells, p. 85) It also became localized via alignment with the Church. (Wickham, p. 106-107) 

For the purpose of this article, I want to point out two things about this identity-shifting period of time that serve this conversation. 

The first is that the era between 400 and 600 CE became known as the Migration Period with large-scale movement of people into and out of the late Roman imperial territories. (Wells, p. 29) This mixing of people groups amongst the Western ‘barbarian’ tribes is described as ‘ethnogenesis’ by Herwig Wolfram—”the recognition that ethnic identities were flexible, malleable, ‘situational constructs’.” Essentially, identity had less to do with identifying one’s ethnic past and more to do with differentiating from present-day neighbors. (Wickham, p. 99)

However, when cultural identity was more forcibly reconfigured through military conquests, such as in the case of Atilla the Hun, once the conquering group identity fell, people reasserted their independence by reclaiming their original group identity. (Heather, p. 237-238) These fragmented identities eventually formed the foundation of medieval Europe, later becoming France, Spain, and Italy. (Kelly, p. 279) 

In short, when people are free to intermingle and mix (despite uncertainty), the focus shifts away from differentiating between one another and towards generating a new unified identity. When group identity is asserted, the forced collective narrative doesn’t last. I found this same idea to be true with how ideas and knowledge flowed during any Pluto in Aquarius within Ages of Air and Saturn-Neptune conjunctions in Aries.

The second socio-cultural point I want to make about this era involves another form of identity clash in the Eastern half of the Empire. Constantinople had two independent semi-political parties: the Republicans Blues (big landowners, the old Graeco-Roman aristocracy, and religious orthodoxy) and the Democrats Greens (trade, industry, and civil service focused, and associated with stretching theological thought.) (Norwich, p. 185)

This split started between two theological camps: ‘monophysitism’ which argued that Christ’s human nature was absorbed by his divine nature (meaning he therefore has only one nature) and ‘dyophysitism’ which argued for the dual human-divine nature of Christ. The former was rejected as heretical in 451 at the Council of Chalcedon as a result of Pope Leo the Great’s 449 declaration on LLM’s Christ’s identity.

Emperors such as Zeno attempted to reconcile these opposing views without success. (Norwich, p. 181) However, another Emperor who had not given up hope to retake the West, saw this identity-crisis as an opportunity.

Emperor Justinian — A Prelude

Emperor Justinian’s reign was eventful and eerily familiar. Towards the beginning of his reign, there was an epidemic (The Plague of Justinian) throughout the Mediterranean, Europe and the Near East in which 25% of the population died. 

He was a builder, known for his extensive construction program of lavish ballrooms and triumphal arches churches, funded by tightening and increasing taxes (Norwich, p. 195, 202). He shut down The Department of Education the philosophical school in Athens and repressed gender-affirming curriculum, critical-race theory, etc. Platonic philosophy, creating instantaneous brain-drain to places like Persia. (Wilken, p. 25; Exec. Order No. 14190, 2025) Allowing these philosophers safe passage back from Persia was the only declaration of ideological toleration that Justinian ever signed. (Nixey, p. 257)

In addition, Justinian centralized the government, reduced the power of the States Provinces, and started revising major legal laws within a year of claiming power, including those pertaining to Roe v Wade and the gender binary sexuality and severely repressing northern Palestine in 529 and 555 in particular. (Norwich, p. 195) He also engaged in prolonged warfare with Persia (modern-day Iran). (Norwich, p. 194)

He appointed Elon Musk John of Cappadocia as Praetorian Prefect to tighten the empire’s belt and create revenue, despite the fact that he was seen as morally depraved and aroused universal contempt. Justinian also appointed Todd Blanche Tribonian as the highest law officer (Durkin Richer, 2026) though he was renowned to sell justice to the highest bidder. (Norwich, p. 195-196)

But most of all, Justinian believed it was his Christian duty to regain the West, reunite it with what belonged to the political manifestation of Christendom, and Make It Great Again. (Norwich, p. 205) In order to take on these military campaigns, he needed money. The irony is that Justinian inherited a large budgetary surplus and stable economy but between his building campaigns and string of wars, he is accused of ruining the Empire financially by the end of his reign. (Wickham, 92-94)

Knowing higher taxes wouldn’t go over well with the people, he took great pains to cultivate a positive relationship with national role models (i.e. Kanye West, Hulk Hogan, Kid Rock, Dana White, Musk, etc. the Pope) and the state religion to garner popularity. (Norwich, p. 213) Thus, alignment with the Bible (DeRose, 2026) and Christianity (Collinson, 2026) served as a political power move to enable war. (Wilken, p. 255) I hear an echo.

Archetype #1: Emperor Justinian — Control and Consolidate Truth

This is where Justinian’s infamy in strong-arming “Truth” for political gain comes into play. Justinian’s solution to unify the opposing theological parties was The Three Chapters, an attack and condemnation of those on an extreme end of the spectrum—the Nestorians, who emphasized both the humanity and divinity of Christ as two separate persons. Justinian’s logic in attacking the common enemy of the two opposing parties seemed like it could bring them together but it backfired. (Norwich, p. 543-544)

Not only did neither side feel appeased, but he had clearly overstepped. The three individuals Justinian condemned in The Three Chapters had already been dealt with by the Church. Therefore, Justinian’s condemnation undermined the Church’s authority and emphasized doctrinal uniformity for the purpose of political stability and power.

Justinian had a history of controlling Popes and he intended to do the same with Pope Vigilius who owed him loyalty on the account of securing him the position. (Norwich, p. 191) However, Pope Vigilius pushed back and drama ensued.

Justinian upped the ante and published a second edict which was essentially his interpretation of the basic tenets of Christianity. The Pope asked Justinian to withdraw it which he refused, so Vigilius and all the bishops from both East and West got together and agreed to make pronouncements against Justinian and excommunicated him (for the third time). This infuriated Justinian so he had the Pope put under house arrest. (Norwich, p. 255-257) 

With the Pope under his thumb, Justinian convened the Second Council of Constantinople in 553 (which Vigilius refused to attend). The Three Chapters were passed but Vigilius continued to hold out from officially recognizing it for another year. However, after 8 years of extraordinary “coercion” under house arrest, Vigilius finally capitulated and recognized The Three Chapters. Vigilius was finally released in 555; however, weak from all he had endured, he died on his way back to Rome, just after the final Saturn-Neptune conjunction in Aries.

In the end, Justinian never reconciled the two sides. Vigilius lost his credibility and the West felt bullied. (Wickam, p. 94) Division persisted despite the condemnations, but Justinian’s efforts to solve the controversy over the person of Christ earned him a shout out in the Divine Comedy for taking on “that hard task”. (Wilken, p. 254) From that point forward, Justinian clung compulsively to power, refusing to delegate authority while no longer possessing the ability or the appetite to use it well. (Norwich, p. 259)

It is ironic that it is because of Justinian’s legal reforms that we have Bibles in US courtrooms that witnesses swear upon to tell the truth. (Wilken, p. 252) However, it is clear that the approach of forcibly “reconciling” ideological disagreements and identities through scapegoating, coercion, manipulation, infringement, and institutional gatekeeping does in fact earn you a place in history—of how to fail miserably, foster distrust, and promote brain drain.

Archetype #2: Origen of Alexandria — Explore and Expand Truth

I’ve gone a bit more in-depth with Justinian to give a broader picture of the ideological and socio-political climate of 553-555. However, the second individual I’m choosing to focus on wasn’t actually alive during this period of time, but his ideas were still kicking up dust.

In addition to the Nestorians, Origenists were also attacked for their “speculative theology”. Origen’s original theological work occurred during a prior Saturn-Neptune conjunction in Aries, around 232 CE, and culminated in the next conjunction between 553 and 555.

Ironically, both Justinian and Origen were excommunicated three times from the Church. In Origen’s case, this included once during his lifetime (including torture and imprisonment which, like Vigilius, ultimately caused his death after his release), once during The First Origenist Crisis of 400, and once during The Second Origenist Crisis of 553 at the Second Council of Constantinople. (Chadwick, p. 96) The question is, what was so threatening about an excommunicated, deceased theologian that all of his writings were targeted and burned?

Origen approached theology and hermeneutics differently than his contemporaries. To start, he took on an allegorical reading of Scripture rather than a literal one with multiple possible “levels” of potential spiritual truth. (Chadwick, p. 74-75) 

The problem was that lay teachings focused on the lowest or most literal and basic interpretations. Origen saw part of his mission as bringing the “higher” levels of insight down to the “lower” levels so the people might be encouraged to advance spiritually. (Chadwick, p. 75) However, the way he went about this was unorthodox for his time. 

Origen was known for his exceptional intelligence and was learned in both Greek philosophy and the Alexandrian Jewish thinkers. Like Plato, he saw his father targeted and martyred by Emperor Septimius Severus in a deliberate act of political persecution. (Wilken, p. 56) This impacted him greatly and he felt that Christianity needed to be not only a community of faith but also a tradition of learning and understanding. 

Historian Robert Louis Wilken describes Origen’s conviction plainly: “Though Origen believed firmly in the truth of the Scriptures, he knew that simply citing scriptural texts fostered neither understanding nor conviction. Interpreting the Scriptures required the work of reason no less than did philosophy. His aim was to make the “knowledge that leads to a good and happy life” a matter not only of faith but also of persuasion.” (The first thousand years: A global history of Christianity, p. 61)

Besides Greek philosophy, he was the first Christian to take an interest in the Jewish Scriptures as they were read in the synagogue, including studying under a rabbi. In this pursuit, he created the Hexapla, an edition of the Old Testament with 6 columns that included several Greek versions (including the heavily used Septuagint) alongside the original Hebrew. He wanted to expose how different the Septuagint was from the original text and how that impacted the truth that was being taught. (Wilken, p. 55-59)

When it came to Greek philosophy, he also translated ideas like ‘eternal life’ into Platonic language to demonstrate the harmony between Jesus and Plato and make it more accessible. (Chadwick, p. 71-72; Reference to: Comm. in John. xiii. 45. 298; Jerome, Ep. 8.4.3; Apol. adv. Rufin. i. 18.) He also took an exploratory approach that invited the reader to decide what the correct view was for themselves. (Chadwick, p. 72-73) Origen continually encouraged his readers to think critically about his writings and if errors were found to correct them. (Chadwick, p. 97)

This conviction—to not merely believe truth purely on faith but to also know it through reason, understanding, revelation, and questioning—undermined the Church’s authority in more ways than one. Particularly after the 3rd century, the clergy in the East did not like the “pagan” literature of the Greeks so Christians were encouraged not to read them. This effectively imposed censorship on classical literature which Origen was encouraging seekers to read and compare to Scripture. (Reynolds, p. 41-42)

But beyond his methods, the bigger grievance his contemporaries had of Origen’s approach was his eschatology which they diagnosed as a blindness to paideia, or Greek culture. The irony was that Origen’s attitude toward Greek philosophy was more reserved and critical than most. (Chadwick, p. 98, 100, 102) Many Christian thinkers of the day actually felt that “pagan” philosophy did in fact hold some truths that could be appropriated and purified for Christian use. The problem with Origen was that he was seen as too Platonic when it came to specific ideas like the transmigration of souls (Chadwick, p. 114), the pre-existence of souls, (Chadwick, p. 115) or the idea that if the devil fell by free will, even the devil can be saved. (Chadwick, p. 99)

It’s not hard to see why this outside-of-the-box and cross-cultural thinking encouraged too many questions and strayed too far afield for the Church. Allowing truth to continue to unfold was directly opposed to the safety of orthodoxy. The irony I see in the Church’s treatment of Origen’s theology is that the same institutional gatekeeping and silencing of outliers would be enacted upon them by Justinian.

Yet Origen’s legacy did not die with him. The work Origen started in Caesarea led to the formation of the first Christian library. After his death, a wealthy patron expanded this collection in an effort to preserve Origen’s writings. Over time this library became a scholarly center for copying books, becoming one of the largest collections of pagan, Jewish, and Christian writings. (Wilken, p. 60) This is what leads me to the final archetype.

Archetype #3: The Nameless Scholar-Monk — Preserve and Protect Truth

Origen’s library was one example of an organic, decentralized effort. Perhaps this reflected a tapping into of the collective unconscious as these efforts were not wholly coordinated; however, taken together, they safeguarded both truth and the spirit of inquiry.

In the Western world, an alternative and decentralized social structure sprang up within centralized Christianity and would become one of the most enduring Christian institutions: monasticism. (Wilken, p. 100) 

Because they operated outside the formal structure of the Church, monks had to support themselves through their labor. While they were largely self-sustaining, they still relied on the outside world for key items. Over time, they performed the valuable labor of copying and preserving texts which not only produced a small source of income but also became a calling and a meditative practice not unlike prayer. (Wilken, p. 107)

A constellation of factors facilitated this quiet spiritual revolution, including the replacement of Latin with Greek in the Eastern Roman Empire, (Gainsford, 2020; Norwich, p. 195) the hand-off of the dwindling education system in the Western Roman Empire to the Church, (Wickham, p. 106, Reynolds, p. 69) the hostility of the Church towards pagan literature and the subsequent endangerment of non-ecclesiastical works, (Wickham, p. 106) and the burning of libraries and knowledge centers as political and religious collateral.

A notable Roman statesman, Cassiodorius, was one example of an individual who saw preservation as a sacred task amidst his own “post-truth” era. After seeing the Palatine and Ulpian libraries burn to the ground during political upheaval, he left the city and founded the Vivarium which was dedicated to this task of Monastic Scriptoria—the copying and preservation of texts. It became one of the few remaining working libraries in the 6th century and beyond. (Reynolds, p. 71-72) A few scattered monasteries also took up the task, capitalizing on their small size and obscure locations as key protective strengths.

Copied texts were not only religious but also included philosophy, literature, and science. (Wells, p. 197) Some texts that survived thanks to these nameless monks include works by Ovid, Pliny the Elder, Vergil, Seneca, and Cicero. (Reynolds, p. 71) Copies from Latin in particular were solely preserved thanks to Monastic Scriptoria (Gainsford, 2020) and the unintended invention of the book review, or a compilation and commentary of works, also ended up preserving the only extant copies of otherwise lost originals. (Kaldellis, 2012)

This was not a solely Western effort though. In the Far East, a similar storyline played out amidst the targeted destruction of Buddhist written works. The first Emperor of a unified China attempted to destroy all literature and memory that predated his dynasty, not only undertaking the most extensive book burning campaign in history but also burying Confucian scholars alive with their texts. 

Under threat of death, Chinese scholars responded by creating the Fangshan Stone Sutras in Hunan. Over 14,000 texts were painstakingly carved into cave walls, making them impervious to fire and easily reproducible through rubbings. This monastic sacrifice and ingenuity served as the initial iteration of the printing press in 11th century China, later rediscovered in 15th century Germany to fuel the Reformation in the next Age of Air.

These are but a few examples of the nameless scholar-monks whose individual but collective efforts are the sole reason we can read numerous texts today and rediscover their truths. They didn’t know which texts they should preserve and they didn’t need to because in all actuality they were preserving possibility and the elements necessary for the future expansion of truth.

Setting the Scene: A Post-Truth Era, Round 2

As you can see, during (un)precedent times as these, truth and knowledge can be either weaponized via control and consolidation or it can be expanded through open cross-cultural and cross-disciplinary inquiry. It can also be protected through a constellation of decentralized efforts. 

However, infernos and megalomaniacs are easy scapegoats for the loss of intellectual capital like the historic libraries and learning centers of old. Instead we need to look to fear, ignorance, and greed as the real culprits. It’s these psychological drives that confine knowledge into silos or specific sanctioned ways of thinking. 

The irony is that this pull to hoard or control knowledge is what simultaneously draws dragons and cuts off the oxygen to progress. Conversely, efforts to pool intellectual capital and encourage the cross-pollination of disciplines are the people and places that reliably birth innovation.

Today, the hoarding, control, and censure of intellectual treasure is not only found on government websites (2025 United States government online resource removals, 2026) but also in data center stockpiles and monopolist publishing cartels with Chiefs and Officers of all flavors guarding their troves. Traditional knowledge centers like libraries and universities are feeling the squeeze with open-access libraries like Internet Archive facing multi-million dollar lawsuits for sharing the wealth (“Hachette v. Internet Archive", 2025) and scholars considering or already leaving the United States and other countries undergoing ideological persecution in droves in search of intellectual freedom. (Association of American Universities, 2026; Dunbar, 2025; Joseph, 2025)

This kind of post-truth climate can feel disenfranchising and foster a feeling of powerlessness amidst these powerhouses. However, there’s one other thing these archetypes demonstrate for us and it's how the relationship between truth and authority ultimately plays out in the short and long-term.

For Justinian, authority is what created truth, but it neither lasted nor achieved the desired outcome when done for the purpose of control. 

For Origen, truth questions authority that seeks to control, whether that was an established way of reading Scripture or questioning the Church's chosen form of delivering truth. His own truths underwent multiple attempts to snuff them out but his ideas persisted. 

And for the nameless scholar-monks, they show us that truth ultimately survives authority. I wonder if these monks realized they were midwifing the incubation and rebirth of truth when they copied Seneca's On Benefits which states, “Truth never perishes.” I doubt that most of us realize this is what we are doing when we take time to fact-check, to engage in discourse, and to read a book or article and pass on an insight. Ultimately, truth survives because ordinary people preserve it.

I hope I have communicated clearly that there are alternative and potent ways to resist the swirl into nihilism and coerced identities. In a previous article (The Age of AI(R), Part Four) on parallel knowledge economies, I explored the ethics of resistance and about a dozen different protective, relational, and epistemic strategies that offer an alternative Aquarian and Plutonic approach in this post-truth era. If you’re looking for ideas and reorientation then I invite you to give that a read. 

If you’re looking for encouragement then I will point out that you don’t need to become a martyr or start a multicultural library to expand and protect the truth. Begin by not being a Justinian and continue by asking questions like Origen.

If you’re looking for hope, then I leave you with a few words of truth from writers whose works we would not have were it not for those nameless scholar-monks:

“Many discoveries are reserved for ages still to come, when memory of us will have been effaced.”

– Seneca, Natural Questions, Book 7

“Knowledge of one’s own ignorance is the first step to wisdom.”

– attributed to Ovid

“To be ignorant of what occurred before you were born is to remain always a child.”

– Cicero, Orator, 120

“Happy is he who has been able to learn the causes of things.”

– Vergil, Georgics, 2.490

“The true glory of a man is to leave nothing for himself.”

– Pliny the Elder, Natural History

References:

2025 United States government online resource removals: Revision history. (2026, May 19). Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2025_United_States_government_online_resource_removals

Chadwick, H. (1966). Early Christian thought and the classical tradition: Studies in Justin, Clement, and Origen. Oxford University Press.

Collinson, S. (2026, April 16). The dangers of the Trump administration using faith to justify its war. CNN. https://www.cnn.com/2026/04/17/politics/the-dangers-of-the-trump-administration-using-faith-to-justify-war

Dark ages (historiography). (2026, May 25). Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Dark_Ages_(historiography)&oldid=1356122994

DeRose, J. (2026, May 26). How the Trump administration uses the Bible to justify military invasions and immigration raids. All Things Considered(NPR). https://www.npr.org/2026/05/26/nx-s1-5698511/how-the-trump-administration-uses-the-bible-to-justify-military-invasions-and-immigration-raids

Dunbar, M. (2025, June 15). “No way to invest in a career here”: US academics flee overseas to avoid Trump crackdown. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/ng-interactive/2025/jun/15/academics-science-trump-university-crackdown

Durkin Richer, A. (2026, June 4). Trump says he will nominate Todd Blanche to serve as attorney general. PBS News. https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/trump-says-he-will-nominate-todd-blanche-to-serve-as-attorney-general

Exec. Order No. 14190 (2025, January 29).

https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/ending-radical-indoctrination-in-k-12-schooling/

Franklin, R. (2026, March 16). Why humanity must learn to trust differently in the GenAI era. World Economic Forum. https://www.weforum.org/stories/2026/03/why-humanity-must-learn-to-trust-differently-in-the-era-of-genai/

Gainsford, P. (2020, June 12). Who preserved Greek literature? (Part 2). Kiwi Hellenist: Modern myths about the ancient world. https://kiwihellenist.blogspot.com/2020/06/who-preserved-greek-literature-2.html

“Hachette v. Internet Archive.” (2025, August 24). Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachette_v._Internet_Archive

Hartford Institute for Religion Research. (2025, June). Exploring the pandemic impact on congregations study. https://www.covidreligionresearch.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/This-Place-Means-Everything-to-Me-Key-Findings-from-a-National-Survey-of-Church-Attenders-in-Post-Pandemic-United-States.pdf

Heather, P. (2009). Empires and barbarians: The fall of Rome and the birth of Europe. Oxford University Press.

Joseph, A. (2025, December 17). American science, shattered: Amid talk of a brain drain, some scientists leave U.S. behind. Stat News. https://www.statnews.com/2025/12/17/research-cuts-fuel-scientific-brain-drain-american-science-shattered/

Kaldellis, A. (2012). The Byzantine role in the making of the corpus of classical Greek historiography: A preliminary investigation. The Journal of Hellenic Studies, 132, 71–85. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41722255

Kelly, C. (2006). The end of empire: Attila the Hun and the fall of Rome. W. W. Norton & Company, Inc.

Nixey, C. (2017). The Darkening Age: The Christian destruction of the classical world. Macmillan.

Norwich, J.J. (1988). Byzantium: The early centuries. Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.

Association of American Universities. (2026, May 15). Resources on American researchers leaving the United States. https://www.aau.edu/key-issues/resources-american-researchers-leaving-united-states

Reuter, D. (2025, June 26). Americans are looking to stock up on gas masks, emergency meal kits, and power banks as anxiety builds. Business Insider. https://www.businessinsider.com/americans-preppers-looking-to-stock-up-emergency-supplies-anxiety-builds-2025-6

Reynolds, L.D. & Wilson, N.G. (1968). Scribes and scholars: A guide to the transmission of Greek and Latin literature. Oxford University Press.

Wells, P. S. (2008). Barbarians to angels: The dark ages reconsidered. W. W. Norton & Company.

Wickham, C. (2009). The inheritance of Rome: A history of Europe from 400 to 1000. Viking Penguin.

Wilken, R. L. (2012). The first thousand years: A global history of Christianity. Yale University Press.

In Part One, I argued that consciousness unfolds not as a linear progression toward a final endpoint, but as a cyclical process of wholeness, fragmentation, and redemption.

If that model holds, we should be able to observe it not only in theory, but in the historical record of how humans have made sense of reality through paradigms of meaning over time.

In this second part, I turn to what I’m calling one of the most ‘enduring human orientations toward reality’ — astrology — to trace how the evolution of consciousness has expressed itself across all of recorded and archeological history. More specifically, I’ll examine how astrology has been simultaneously shaped by us and in turn, shaped us throughout this process of becoming conscious.

To do this, I will introduce a very ancient and foundational astrological concept that exemplifies this cyclical shape of consciousness: the elements.

While central to pre-Socratic thought (circa the 6th century BCE), they also appear in other ancient traditions such as the Rig Veda, which archaeology suggests may be tens of thousands of years old.1 Thus, this ‘enduing human orientation toward reality’ might embody the theologies and philosophies that came after.

The Architecture of Infinity

Hermes Trismagistus described the elements as the first principle of the universe.2 In the Hermetica, he writes that while all matter is composed of the four elements, “Mind is the fifth part, which comes from Light, and is bestowed on humankind alone.”3

This idea of “Mind” echoes the Hebrew concept nᵉshâmâh (נְשָׁמָה), or “breath,” discussed in Part One—a principle that imparts both physical life and spiritual consciousness.

Different thinkers identified different elements as the primordial element or the first one that transmuted into the others: water for Thales and the ancient Egyptians,4 air for Anaximines and the Kausitaki Upanisad,5 fire for Heraclitus and the Rig Veda,6 and earth (or Gaia) for the Greeks.

Rather than resolving which came first, the persistence of disagreement itself suggests something important: the elements are not static building blocks, but dynamic phases within a cycle that continually flows from one into the next.

This insight was most clearly articulated by Empedocles. His solution to “The Problem of the One and the Many” was to introduce “the Few”—the elements—as mediators between total unity and multiplicity. Each element rises into dominance and then recedes, creating a repeating cycle. This was the basis of his model of ‘the quaternity of time’:

“The cosmos is said to evolve through four stages which are repeated infinitely, as the hand of a clock circles continually through the four compass points. In the Age of Love, or of the One, Love melts all things together into an undifferentiated unity...In mythological terms, this is a Golden Age, an age before strife and separate ego-identities. In the following age, the counterforce—Hate, or Strife, or Separation—gradually disrupts this unity…The next or third age is the Age of Hate proper…the unifying force of Love has been driven altogether from sight and the universe is a hell of Hate and Strife. In the fourth age, the force of Love reappears and gradually expands again as Strife gradually recedes, restoring unity for a new Age of Love.”7

Empedocles’ model closely mirrors the redemptive cycle outlined in Part One: wholeness, loss, fragmentation, and repair. The elemental paradigm, therefore, assumes a cosmos that is not progressing toward a fixed endpoint, but continually recreating itself.

The Elements as a Map of Time

Using this framework, we can construct a narrative of the evolution of consciousness — one that uses astrology as both a mirror and a participant.

While the starting point is less important than the pattern, I propose the following mapping:

• Fire → wholeness and unity

• Earth → separation and material consolidation

• Air → abstraction and intellectualization

• Water → dissolution and crisis of meaning, leading to reintegration

• Fifth Element → the ingredient of reintegration (redemption)

To make this more tangible, I also draw on the familiar developmental arc of a human life. To be clear, this analogy is not meant to be used like Sir Edward Tylor’s “primitive error hypothesis”, moving from “primitive” to “advanced.” Instead it is meant to mirror our shifting relationship to where we source our meaning and orientation, whether that be a parent or the autonomy of adulthood.

Brian Fegter on Unsplash

Animistic Consciousness: Fire or the Age of Love

If we liken this cycle to human development, this stage resembles the fetus in the womb — undifferentiated, fully embedded, and in total union with the mother. Animistic Consciousness reflects this state. The “self”, as a separate entity, is minimal or nonexistent. Humans experience themselves as continuous with nature.

This period has often been interpreted as a more egalitarian or “matrifocal” phase, with goddess imagery serving ceremonial rather than hierarchical functions.8 The abundance of fertility figures, such as those found at Jarmo, supports this interpretation.9 Archaeological evidence also shows lunar tracking systems dating back at least 30,000 years, often correlated with menstrual cycles.10

Astrologically, this reflects an “environmental theology”—a cosmos experienced as alive and unified. Shamanic practices, such as those practiced as megalithic sites, positioned humans as participants within, rather than observers of, this system.11 As much as humans created terrestrial methods to track the movement of the sky, astrology also shaped humans’ understanding of their co-creative embedded positioning in the universe.

Ben Lowe on Unsplash

Mythic Consciousness: Earth or the Age of Separation

With birth comes separation. In this stage, the self emerges as distinct, but still dependent. This corresponds to Mythic Consciousness. Where Animistic Consciousness lacked hierarchy, this phase introduces stratification, centralized power, and organized religion.

Evidence of a historical social and cultural transformation can be found in myths worldwide, ranging from the Americas, Australia, Oceania, Eurasia, and Africa. These myths describe transitions from female-centered to male-centered systems. Women’s menstrual cycles shifted from being a sacred celestial symbol tied to life to a symbol of pollutedness and inferiority.12

This period saw thousands of years of power struggles between people groups, resulting in a pluralistic pantheon of gods ruled by one supreme god — which happened to be the god of the people who had just gained power. Religion also became centralized and a highly complex mythology including many different gods was recorded in ancient Sumerian (circa 3,500 BCE).

Bartel van der Waerden holds a theory that the ancient Mesopotamian’s astral theology underwent a shift from pluralism to one supreme ruler during this timeframe. Astrology proper followed suit by also becoming more systematized so that it could help a male priesthood and king to manage the state, ensuring stability, order, and harmony in the kingdom, and power over their enemies.13 The planetary deities also became predominantly male and the two planets associated with fertility, the Moon and Venus, were made feminine. The Sun became associated with kingship and was given dominance over the Moon.14

As a result of these hierarchical shifts, humans were seen as completely subject to the will of the gods. Thus, they started to find ways to communicate with them so that they could better understand their relationship to the gods and the gods’ relationships to each other, as well as appeal to them to change their minds. Humans created corresponding myths that shaped the meaning connected to different constellations and planets. However, astrology maintained an ordering that transcended hierarchy and periods of chaos. Characters in the sky changed depending who was in power but time remained the ultimate authority.

Kenrick Mills on Unsplash

Empirical Consciousness: Air or the Age of Hate

As children and adolescents’ autonomy develops, so does their ability to think abstractly and reflect on themselves. This stage corresponds to an increasing reliance on logic, measurement, and systematization. The world becomes something to measure, analyze, and control.

Historically, this Empirical Consciousness began with 730-years of data collection, resulting in the Enuma Anu Enlil—the longest running “scientific” experiment in recorded history.15 Although we call this “science,” the distinction between science and religion did not yet exist in Babylonian culture.16 This empirical experiment was the result of increasing pressure from the king for accurate predictions. Mesopotamian astrologers tried to perfect their craft by plotting more political, social, and economic data with celestial events, resulting in casuistic, if-then statements. The 8th - 5th centuries therefore produced a scientific revolution comparable to the transformation of European thought from 1500 - 1700.17

As a result of this documentation, the intentions of the gods were eventually removed from the equation and humans were left with “the inevitable relationship between present omen and future event, between astronomical observation and political action. Astrology then emerges as an abstract, logical, almost scientific means of managing the world. In astrology, modern science began its gradual, uneven development out of religion.”18

Astrology was shaped to pinpoint increasingly accurate forms of measurement and corresponding predictions. It strained against, acquiesced, and integrated increasingly mechanized and rule-bound worldviews. From Plato, Ptolemy and Aquinas, to Galileo, Newton, and Copernicus, astrology continued to absorb new ways of categorizing reality and measuring the sacred.

However, the increasing separation from inspired interpretation created problems over the centuries that couldn’t be resolved with further calculation. Essentially, astrology pushed back against this mechanical interplay between ‘fate’ and ‘free will’, insisting that its ordered form could not be caged and reduced to mathematical formulas sans its co-creative nature.

Giulia Veneziano on Unsplash

Fragmented Consciousness: Water or the Age of the Need to Restore Unity

By the time an adolescent has become an adult, self-reliance and self-mastery become a focus. Virility becomes paramount, as is building and consolidating resources with the unconscious belief that they are protection from future harm. Any sense of interdependence is proverbially “lost” by this point. However, as an adult experiences heartache and loss, sickness and meaninglessness, that adult is faced with a crisis point: ideas and beliefs that we hold tightly about what we “know” suddenly become moot when we are faced with our own mortality and meaninglessness.

In this stage, meaning begins to dissolve. The frameworks that once provided certainty and safety no longer hold.

The dissection of the sacred has culminated in this stage of Fragmented Consciousness in thinkers like Darwin, Nietzsche, and Freud, whose questions have reflected humanity’s disillusionment with inherited structures of meaning — to the extent that we have become uncertain whether a god has ever existed, whether goodness, truth, and beauty are even possible, and what the meaning of life really is.

Astrology has absorbed this skepticism as an object with science relegating it to the fantastical. However, I would argue that astrology’s base essence as an enduring human orientation toward reality persists. It continues to offer what purely empirical and fragmented systems cannot: meaning, narrative, and relational orientation. In short, it’s not the mechanics that define astrology, but the practice.

For this reason, some are now moving away from defining astrology solely in its Hellenistic, horoscopic form and towards the base idea that all things in the cosmos are interdependent.19 While some posit that astrology was merely created for functional purposes, it misses the point that humans also engage in myth-making, storytelling, and meaning-creating because humans cannot function without meaning.20 That is what astrology has continued to impress upon us as much as we have changed its form.

Daniel Ramirez on Unsplash

Redeemed Consciousness: The Fifth Element or the conduit for the New Age of Love

This brings us to the present moment—a fragmented crisis of meaning. Our relationships to each other, to the Earth, and to the transcendent are strained. But this rupture is not the end of the cycle. Rather, it is the condition for a Redeemed Consciousness.

“The Fifth Element” represents the mode of that redemption and reintegration. To Empedocles, it was the force of Love reappearing and restoring Unity. To Korben Dallas (Bruce Willis), it was Leeloo (Milla Jovovich) falling through his taxicab roof…who also turned out to be The Fifth Element (aka Love) arriving to drive back Zorg and ‘the great evil’ (aka Strife and Hate) and restore Unity to planet Earth.21

In order to regain what was lost, restore unity, and usher in a New Age of Love, we must embrace Redemption and exchange the re-creative force of Love for the disconnection and stubborn ideas that we are islands that don’t need meaning or relationships; that everything worth knowing must be measurable; that hierarchy is a reflection of value; and that the Earth couldn’t exist without us.

Astrology has mirrored shifts in consciousness while also shaping them. It is one example of a feedback loop between a symbolic system and human perception, and in that feedback loop, we are continually seeking to understand our place in relation to the universe, to the Divine, and to each other and ourselves. Therefore, astrology is both reflective and constitutive of this return back to the beginning too.

While its form has been constantly reinterpreted and has evolved in correlation with consciousness, astrology’s function has remained constant and calls us back to that unitarian wholeness: it’s a participatory framework embedded in relationship. But it is also meant to inspire awe and gratitude — the fuel for the regenerative and co-creative act of the cyclical process of consciousness.

This reconnection to “breath” (nᵉshâmâh, נְשָׁמָה),22 to “Mind,”23 and to the fifth element that Aristotle called “ether”24 is the essence of redemption.

Footnotes: 

I’ll be up front: I’m an astrologer, researcher, and academic. I also grew up in a Christian household, completed 20 years of Christian education (including seminary), and have participated in more than half a dozen Protestant and Catholic traditions…and I did not go to church this Easter. 

This is not an article about disillusionment, nor is it a missionizing argument cloaked in esotericism. It is about critical thinking and about the expanded worldview that emerges the more I realize how much I don’t know—something I truly wish to see more of in religious tradition and discourse.

My interest was piqued when I heard my mom recount her church’s Good Friday service and tradition of reading “The 7 Last Sayings of Jesus” before his death. It’s a unique Easter tradition in that it’s practiced across both Protestant and Catholic contexts. What many may not realize is that it is also a purposeful blending of multiple Gospel perspectives—but I’ll return to that shortly.

This tradition began to take shape in the Medieval Period, and off the cuff, I wondered whether it was a retrospective symbolic arrangement of scripture rather than a revelatory pattern emerging from shared worldviews. 

Upon a closer look, I found that while “The 7 Last Sayings of Jesus” was formally structured in the Medieval period, it may reflect a much older cosmological narrative. When viewed through a cultural-historical lens, Plato’s model of planetary ascent reveals a striking alignment with Christ’s crucifixion narrative as a symbolic journey through the celestial spheres toward reunion with the Divine (aka Truth, Beauty, and Goodness).

I am not arguing that this structure was intentionally encoded, but that it reflects a shared symbolic framework through which both ancient and Medieval thinkers understood reality.

To explain why, we must first examine why this tradition emerged in the Medieval Period, and more importantly, consider the mindset and knowledge of the first-century Middle Eastern zeitgeist.

Affective Piety and the Humanization of Christ

In the Medieval Period, the Church shifted toward a stance of affective piety—a movement away from an abstract, theological understanding of Jesus and toward a more emotional and experiential connection to his suffering. 

Part of this shift emerged from a centuries-old theological tension between emphasizing Christ’s divinity versus his humanity, with this practice leaning strongly into the latter. Another factor was the harsh realities of life at the time and the search for meaning and relief amid suffering. (Thomas, p. 5–9) Who better to empathize with human pain than Christ himself?

In the 12th century, theologians and mystics such as Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), St. Francis of Assisi (1181–1226), and Bonaventure (1221–1274) began compiling the final words of Jesus to facilitate deeper emotional and spiritual connection through structured prayer and meditation. 

By the 16th century, this practice had formalized into liturgy, now known as “The 7 Last Sayings of Jesus” and incorporated into traditions such as The Stations of the Cross. Its influence extended beyond the Church into broader culture, including Joseph Haydn’s The Seven Last Words of Christ in the 1780s.

Over time, each saying became associated with specific theological principles tied to Christ’s life, ministry, and death. However, what drew my attention was the numerological significance—something both first-century and Medieval thinkers would have readily recognized, and which still holds meaning today. (Johnston, p. 71)

Christianity within a Cosmological Worldview

Like any religious tradition, Christianity developed within—and in dialogue with—existing cultural, philosophical, and religious frameworks. 

For example, various ‘pagan’ influences were integrated into Christian practice, often as a way of translating meaning across cultures or for political influence. These include aligning the birth of Jesus with the winter solstice and Easter with Passover—or the first full moon following the spring equinox. The Passover/Easter lineage itself traces back to the Babylonian festival akitu—a 12-day commemoration of death and rebirth. (Campion, Astrology and Cosmology, p. 165-166) 

Similarly, the Egyptian concepts of the judgement of the dead alongside Persian ideas of good and evil was adapted into Christian thought of heaven as a reward for ethical behavior. Iconographic parallels—such as Mary and Jesus with Isis and Horus, or Jesus overcoming Satan with Horus overcoming Set—further reflect this cultural continuity. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 88, 90-91)

More pertinent to this discussion, early Christianity also incorporated Greek philosophy, particularly Stoicism and Platonism, which themselves intermingled with other ideas like Hermeticism. One well-known example is John 1:1: “In the beginning was the Word” or the logos, (Campion, Vol. I, p. 245) a concept that emerges alongside the same named in The Hermetica. (Freke, p. xxix) 

Within this context, Platonic cosmology was not foreign. It was embedded in the language, metaphors, and worldview of the time.

The same numerology foundational to Babylonian, Jewish, and Pythagorean traditions also underpin astrological thinking. While Christianity has had a complex relationship with astrology, it’s important to recognize that first-century audiences were deeply familiar with cosmological symbolism.

This is why Scripture not only explicitly gives examples of astrology via the birth of Jesus but also includes implicit use of astrology. This last point illuminates both the philosophical connections important to understanding how “The 7 Last Sayings of Jesus” are connected to the planets.

“He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

The most obvious implicit use of astrology are mentions of celestial omens as warnings of the apocalypse (ex: Mark 13:24-26) which naturally leads us to the book of Revelation where the number 7 alone appears over 50 times. It has been suggested that Jesus’s messages were infused with cosmological significance. Nicholas Campion notes: 

“The key ritual numbers in Hebrew tradition, seven being the number of the days of the creation, twelve the number of tribes. Any intelligent audience of the 1st century would have been deeply aware of the cosmological significance of these numbers, there being seven planets and twelve signs of the zodiac.” (Astrology and Cosmology, p. 166-167)

This first-century cosmological awareness also sheds light on some of Jesus' parables. 

Consider Mark 8:18-21: 

“‘Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ ‘Twelve,’ they replied. ‘And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ They answered, ‘Seven.’ He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?’” (NIV)

Jesus highlights the numbers 7 and 12 which point to the totality of time. 7 is the days of the week and number of planets and 12 is the tribes of Israel, as well as the number of zodiac signs and months. “When Jesus uses the numbers 7 and 12 as the keys to his ministry…he is sending a clear cosmic message—that his preaching concerns the mystery of space and time, particularly his role in bringing a world age to an end and inaugurating the kingdom of God.” (Campion, Vol. I, p. 247-248)

Recognizing this numerological thinking is not anachronistic. Jesus, the disciples, and early Jewish and Christian thinkers operated within a worldview shaped by Platonic, Aristotelian, and Pythagorean ideas about numerology and the moral and cosmological structure of the universe, including Plato’s concept of the World Soul which emanated from the mind of God out through the heavenly spheres to the Earth.

From Plato to Christ: The Soul’s Journey Through the Spheres

Plato’s cosmology continued to influence later philosophical and theological developments. For example, Gnostic traditions drew upon this model, suggesting that Christ’s ascent through the planetary spheres neutralized their influence. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 276) 

This numerological and cosmological thinking persisted into late antiquity. St. Augustine, for instance, used Pythagorean analysis to explore the relationship between sin and salvation through biblical genealogies. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 248-249) 

Augustine also proposed that Christianity, in essence, had always existed—that it was a truth unfolding across time, with traces present even before Christ. (Freke, p.xxix-xxx) 

Later thinkers continued this synthesis. Returning to the Medieval period, Roger Bacon, both a father of modern experimental science and a magician, argued that even Christ operated within planetary influences, drawing on Islamic astrologers such as Abu Ma’shar and Masha’allah to link religious cycles to planetary alignments. (Campion, Vol. II, p. 59)

More recently, Richard Tarnas has identified that executions of leaders carrying out divine or moral missions happen with Saturn-Pluto hard aspects, including Jesus, John the Baptist, and Socrates. (Tarnas, Cosmos and Psyche, p. 235) He also connects the Uranus-Neptune cycle to widespread spiritual awakenings and the birth of new religious and philosophical movements, again including Socrates and Jesus. (Tarnas, Cosmos and Psyche, p. 356)

Taken together, these perspectives suggest that cosmology, numerology, and theology were deeply intertwined. Within such a worldview, it is not unreasonable to consider the possibility that planetary symbolism could reflect “mankind’s future resurrection and reunion” with logos. (Tarnas, Passion, p. 97)

To be clear, I’m not suggesting that the Gospel writers explicitly encoded a planetary ascent narrative. Each wrote for a different audience and emphasized different aspects of Jesus’s life, ministry, and death. However, when these accounts were later synthesized in the Medieval period, they may have unconsciously carried forward a symbolic structure that was already deeply embedded in cultural understanding.

I realize this could imply that a certain ‘Truth’ appears across cultures and time. However, my focus is less a religious one and more an observation that humans across time have shared symbolic structures (such as numerology and cosmology) to make meaning of our experiences like suffering, death, and rebirth. 

In addition, Christianity is not isolated but embedded in a larger stream of cultural awareness. This not only makes the practice of Hermeneutics highly important; it also reminds us that the neat boxes we put ideas like theology, philosophy, and astrology into, aren’t as separate as we think.

When viewed through that lens, the connection between ‘the 7 sayings’ and the 7 celestial spheres becomes far less surprising.

‘The 7 Sayings’ as a Celestial Ascent

The number seven has long symbolized completion, fulfillment, and perfection in both Jewish and Christian traditions. (Johnston, p. 71) It is also associated with the seven days of creation, the seven-day week, and the seven visible planets—hence the naming of the days of the week. (“Days of the week…”)

While the sayings were initially compiled for devotional purposes, their eventual number—seven—carried deep symbolic weight. Combined across the four Gospels, they formed a “complete” account of Christ’s final moments. (Houlden, p. 645) Paired with the combined philosophical and theological framework, a more “complete” picture of what it means to face death and to be reborn also arises.

Most pertinent to this is Plato’s planetary order which was culturally and ideologically relevant before Christ, during the life of Jesus, during the writing of the gospels, and for some, many centuries after. From Earth outward toward deep space and the ‘unchanging’ fixed stars where God and heaven were believed to be, Plato’s system differed from the Chaldean order (1). From the vantage point of Earth, the order was: the Moon, Sun, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 157-158) 

Aristotle expanded on this model, associating the outer, unchanging realm of the fixed stars with perfection and the inner spheres with change and decay. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 168-169) After death, the soul was believed to ascend through these spheres toward the divine.

This cosmological language was familiar to both ancient and Medieval audiences. It was part of how meaning was constructed and communicated.

Whether intentional or emergent, the Medieval arrangement of the seven sayings reveals a striking alignment: a devotional structure that mirrors the same cosmological ascent through which ancient thinkers imagined the soul’s return to the Divine.

With this framework in mind, we can read Christ’s final words as both a human and cosmic journey.

Returning to Goodness, Beauty, and Truth

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they do.” (Luke 23:34) — The Moon

The theological principle tied to Jesus’ first saying is Forgiveness and Mercy. In Aristotle’s explanation of the closest planets’ association with constant change, the Earth, Moon, and Sun were actually equated to plants and animals in that they had no hope of returning to God because they were the furthest away from God. (Campion, Vol. I, p. 168-169) 

In essence, in the sphere closest to Earth and the furthest from the firmament, we are so far removed from our divine nature that we don’t even know what we do is wrong. It’s this ignorance that Jesus called for Mercy and Forgiveness for those so tied to terrestrial and emotional needs and desires (the Moon) that they could not fathom the weight of their actions.

“I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43) — The Sun

This statement is identified with Salvation. While still within Aristotle’s proximity of reprobate nature, the Sun shines light where the Moon had only darkly or dimly lit. Here there seems to be an awareness of one’s position and distance from Goodness but with that awareness despair can follow. 

Christ, the ultimate solar figure, is responding to a criminal who admits that he is being punished justly for his crimes and rebukes the others for their lack of awareness of their distance from God. Christ honors this awareness and offers a promise of the path to Paradise. Despite the distance and potential despair, it is still possible to be reunited with Truth, Beauty, and Goodness.

“He said to his mother, ‘Dear woman, here is your son’, and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother’.” (John 19: 26-27) — Venus

It’s not difficult to correlate the planet of relationship to Jesus' statement to Mary and John and the theological connection to Relationship, Care, and Community. The Virgin Mary has been symbolically and artistically linked to the planet Venus via her lineage in a long line of mother goddesses. The Babylonians and other ancient civilizations who came from these lineages were aware of this planet’s star-shaped pattern and illuminates why the Virgin Mary is also sometimes called Star of the Sea.

This connection to Relationship, Care, and Community is evident in Jesus entrusting his mother to the disciple he loved. It was an act of relational continuity in the midst of rupture. Following the awareness of separation, it is relationships that begin to restore wholeness.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34) — Mercury

The theological principle connected to this saying is Jesus’ Identification with Humanity through his experience of Abandonment and Suffering. It is also often quoted when discussing Christ’s dual nature as it depicts that he is both human and divine. 

It is worth noting that this is the only saying that appears in two gospels: Matthew, who wrote primarily to the Jews emphasizing the divinity of Christ, and Mark, who wrote to the Romans emphasizing the humanity of Christ. (White) Mercury is not only the planet with a dual nature; it is also personified by the only Greco-Roman god who could freely travel back and forth between Hades (Hell) and Olympus (Heaven).

After coming face to face with our short-comings and experiencing grace through community, there is an awareness of our own dual nature as well. We feel both the separateness from Truth, Beauty, and Goodness due to our choices. But we also feel a yearning to return to the perfect state we too once held. This dual awareness is what leads us to a turning point.

“I am thirsty.” (John 19:28) — Mars

This saying is connected to the concept of Fulfillment. To understand why, the context of this saying is important. Jesus had knowledge that all of the Scriptures needed to be fulfilled so there was one last thing he needed to do: ask for something to drink. This statement is more directly connected to the fulfillment of Psalm 22; however, there’s another reason.

The drink Jesus is asking for is wine vinegar. This wine was administered by soaking a sponge into it and placing it on a hyssop branch. These were the same branches used by the Israelites to mark their doorposts in Egypt so that the Angel of Death would “pass over” their homes and spare their firstborn sons. (NIV, Exodus 12:22) Just before being taken, Jesus held the Last Supper with his disciples in which he held up the wine and stated, “This is my blood of the covenant.” (Matthew 26:28)

Here, sacrifice becomes active and chosen. In this sense, Mars represents not only sacrifice, but the decisive act of relinquishing what separates us from Truth. In that journey towards the Divine, we are drawn to make a decision to release behaviors, beliefs, and actions that separate us from Truth. It is this sacrifice that actually offers us the renewal and life we thirst for.

“It is finished.” (John 19:30) — Jupiter

This is Jesus’s theological statement of Triumph. He has fulfilled everything and his job is done. In the Roman world, victorious generals would impersonate and become Jupiter (aka Zeus to the Greeks), riding in a chariot through the city and up to the Temple of Jupiter. Here an entirely white lamb or ox would be sacrificed to Jupiter at the temple.

After we realize that in spite of everything, we can survive sacrificing those parts of ourselves that separate us from Truth, Beauty, and Goodness, then comes gratitude and freedom. Jupiter, the ultimate benefic planet representing these qualities, also represents the magnification of joy from achieving success.

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46) — Saturn

In the outermost sphere and at the doorstep of the unchanging fixed stars, there are the final theological principles of Trust and Surrender. Jesus has completed his mission and is now surrendering his spirit to God for judgement.

Saturn was considered to be at the edge of heaven or the last stop before the soul surrendered for judgement. To the Romans, Saturn was associated with dissolution and liberation for this reason. Saturn is also associated with sowing and reaping (aka ‘karma’). 

In this sense there is a dual meaning of the Platonic-Egyptian view of standing trial and of reunion with the Divine if the feather and the heart weigh the same. Plato depicts in Republic that if a soul arrives at heaven’s gate and is not pure, it is sent back down to Earth. (Gaudio) Once we have surrendered what separates us from the Divine and experienced that sense of Triumph over our less-than-good tendencies tied to a carnal world, we experience liberation from that thing, and that feeling of surrender is a small part of the heavenly experience we seek.

Heaven as Practice

Jesus’ return to heaven represents ultimate fulfillment within the Christian narrative. Yet the process of spiritual death and rebirth is not reserved for a single moment—it is enacted daily through our choices.

Each time we move: 

from ignorance to awareness,

from isolation into community,

from fragmentation into integration,

from indulgence into sacrifice,

and from effort into surrender,

we participate in this same journey—

through the spheres and back toward Goodness, Truth, and Beauty.

This story of completion—whether consciously constructed or symbolically inherited—was mapped out by Plato, embodied by Christ, and preserved through Medieval tradition. It is both cosmological and human.

It is not only a divine journey taken once, but one we are asked to walk every day. This is the process of reuniting divinity with humanity and bringing heaven to Earth.

To that end, let the Word guide your ascent.

(1) The Chaldean Order is: Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. (Campion, Vol I., p. 258)

References:

Campion, N. (2008). A history of western astrology, volume I: The ancient and classical worlds. Bloomsbury Academic.

Campion, N. (2009). A history of western astrology, volume II: The medieval and modern worlds. Bloomsbury Academic.

Campion, N. (2012). Astrology and cosmology in the world’s religions. New York University Press.

“Days of the week meaning and origin in astrology.” (2017, April 20). Astrology Club. https://astrologyclub.org/days-week-meaning-origin/#google_vignette

Fowler, W. W. (1916). Jupiter and the Triumphator. The Classical Review, 30(5/6), 153–157. http://www.jstor.org/stable/698888

Freke, T., & Gandy, P. (1999). The hermetica: The lost wisdom of the pharaohs. Penguin Group.

Gaudio, R. (2022, April 3). The hope of resurrection and the hopelessness of reincarnation. The Socratic journey of faith and reason.https://socratesjourney.org/metaphysics-of-resurrection/

The Holy Bible, New International Version. (1984). Zondervan. (Original work published 1978).

Houlden, Leslie (2003). Jesus in History, Thought, and Culture: An Encyclopedia, Volume 1. ABC-CLIO.

Johnston, R. (1990). Numbers in the Bible: God’s design in biblical numerology. Kregel Publications.

Sayings of Jesus on the cross. (2026, April 2). Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Sayings_of_Jesus_on_the_cross&oldid=1346737175

Tarnas, R. (2006). Cosmos and psyche: Intimations of a new world view. Plume.

Tarnas, R. (1991). The passion of the western mind: Understanding the ideas that have shaped our world view. Ballantine Books.

Thomas, K. (1971). Religion and the decline of magic. Penguin Books.

White, L. (2025, February 24). “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Meaning of Jesus’ words.” Bible Study Tools. https://www.biblestudytools.com/bible-study/topical-studies/my-god-my-god-why-have-you-forsaken-me.html#google_vignette